


Keen Eyes

by Helyme



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Awkward Garrus Vakarian, Eventual Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, F/M, First Contact, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Nihlus Kryik Lives, No Shepard without Vakarian, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Turians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helyme/pseuds/Helyme
Summary: In this magical AU adventure, Garrus is whisked away from the frustrating life of a C-Sec officer by Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik. Flung headfirst into the whirlwind of intrigue and deception that is the world of a Spectre, what secrets will Garrus uncover? More importantly, who will he uncover?Rating subject to change.





	1. Little Incident

The middle of a jungle was definitely the worst place for a stakeout, he decided.   
Yep, definitely the worst. The heat drained the life and liquid out of everything, suspending it in an awful humidity that left them panting, permanently damp and dazed. An endless sea of vines dripped from the canopy above, entangling limbs and tearing at armour at every opportunity with razor-sharp leaves. The only life came in the form of insects, some small and biting, others large and glittering, almost beetle-like, waving odd-numbered limbs as they crawled lazily over the sticky foliage. 

While slavers were not known to be picky when choosing places for their vile hideouts, why anyone would choose to live here of all places was still beyond him. Not only was the planet already in the ass-end of nowhere, but it was about as hostile as it could get while still supporting life. This particular band of slavers had buried themselves so deep in this spirits-damned jungle that the only landing zone was a few days march, and fighting their way through the hostile environment had added another two.

He scratched at his neck as a bead of sweat tickled its way into his undersuit, before glancing back at the turian warily scanning the trees behind him.

Days of hacking their way through the dense underbrush, mud sucking at their boots and tiny biting insects had left him exhausted. Nihlus was a Council Spectre, mentored by the infamous and unforgiving Saren Arterius. He was used to the endless days as predator or prey, the long, relentless, hours that came with the role of Spectre. 

C-Sec however, did nothing of the sort for Garrus. The Turian Millitary’s survival training had embedded the resolve that kept him standing, but he had never made it to the Spectre program. His father had made sure of that, and now he couldn’t hide the shaking limbs and faltering gait that betrayed his weariness. 

“How far now?” he asked as he turned, stumbling as his boot caught on yet another vine twisting its way around his feet. He managed to collect himself just short of crashing into Nihlus as he came to a sudden stop in front of him, and the Spectre gave him a hard glare before returning his attention to the trees.

He still wasn’t sure why Nihlus had requested him specifically to accompany him on this mission. His reputation at C-Sec wasn’t exactly great, with his “overly fluid interpretation” of rules and regulations, as his father so kindly put it. 

He had just received his week of suspension when Nihlus had first approached him. After the debacle that was his case against Dr Saleon, a black-market organ dealer who had been growing his products inside his employees. Garrus had first ordered, then shouted and begged, but Citadel Defense refused to fire on the ship containing Dr Saleon and his hostages. Pallin had shouted at him until both larynges were hoarse before simply shaking his head and gesturing towards the Executor’s office.

_“Garrus..” the Executor sighed, rubbing the familiar blue markings on his face as if he could scrub away his son’s transgressions._

_“Garrus how many times are you going to have to come into my office before you realise that these antics do nothing but waste my time and everyone else’s here?”_

_The grey-blue eyes seemed to bore through Garrus’s defence, fatigue etching deep lines into the dulling brow plates above them. He clenched his fists, talons pricking his palms as a hot flush of embarrassment crept its way out from under his collar, boiling the anger he had been struggling to keep in check since Pallin had dragged him from the docking bay._

_“My ‘antics’ are the only thing that is actually making any kind of difference around here! You sit here, buried under your beloved red tape, letting men like Saleon go because paperwork is more important than people’s lives!”_

_Trembling with rage as a low growl rumbled through his chest, his mandibles fluttered wildly against his jaw and he spat the words with all the vitriol he could muster._

_“All you had to do was let me do my job, and we could have had him. One of the most prolific organ dealers on the Citadel, gone!” The chair clattered to the floor as he stood, talons digging into the soft wood of the desk as he leaned in uncomfortably close._

_“Officer Vakarian, contain yourself!” barked the Executor, what little warmth his father had replaced with the cold, hard demeanour that befitted the Executor of Citadel Security. Garrus jerked upright into a stiff soldier’s stance, a little taken aback at the sharpness stabbing through his father’s voice. His eyes flicked briefly to the floor and he fidgeted uncomfortably, shuffling his feet from side to side._

_A flicker of guilt caught in his chest. There was nothing like his father’s “officer voice” to make him feel like a child again, caught dismantling his father’s rifle mods or sneaking his mother’s special pastries from the pantry._

_“You are suspended for one week, starting now. All your current cases will be transferred to other officers capable of following C-Sec and Council laws and regulations, and upon your return, you will be assigned to a senior officer at all times. Is that clear?” Castis Vakarian calmly punched his instructions into his console before regarding his son with a heavy gaze, mandibles tight to his face and fingertips pressed together._

_Garrus gaped as if to say something, then decided better of it. In the back of his mind, he noted that if he were anyone else he probably would have been demoted, or even fired, but it did little to mute the outrage colouring his subvocals as he sputtered out a “Yes sir.”_

_“Good.” Nodded Castis, before waving one hand lazily towards the door. “Now get out of here.”_

_Garrus didn’t need to be told twice, storming forwards and almost punching the console in his anger._

_That anger carried him aimlessly through the halls and alleyways of the wards, down into Chora’s Den, the seedy nightclub at the bottom of the wards that most C-Sec officers had the tendency to avoid. No one wants to end up having to work on a night out, after all._

_The stench of sweat and despair hit him as he stepped into the dim light, the dirty glares from the other patrons oozing over the film of dust and grease coating every surface. He flared his mandibles in a grimace and glanced down, realising he was still in his distinctive C-Sec issued armor. That explained the looks._

_He was still contemplating whether or not to go home and change when a large, red-plated shoulder barged into him, toppling into a booth as the krogan attached to it continued on his way towards the bar despite the obstruction._

_“Watch it, pyjack” he growled, and Garrus caught a glimpse of three gnarled gashes carving their way past reptilian yellow eyes narrowed into slits._

_For the second time that day, Garrus opened his mouth to say something, then thought the better of it. He sighed and hauled himself up off the sagging bench, eyes darting warily as he dusted himself down and made his way to the bar. He slid into a stool in the corner, as far away as possible from the angry red krogan who was now shouting loudly at the krogan next to him, ryncol sloshing over the edge of the tankard as he waved it about._

_He growled under his breath as the asari bartender meandered her way over with his order, slamming down the grubby glass of watery-looking brandy with a thud._

_How dare they suspend him! Assigned babysitting when he was reinstated? Handing over all his cases? He could forget about busting the brand new red sand ring that popped up only a month ago. Or finally nailing down the volus smuggling mods in with the so-called “toothbrush” parts. What kind of toothbrush needs mass effect fields anyway?!_

_It was unfair and outrageous and exhausting. Mostly unfair. He tilted his head and gulped down the rest of the sour-smelling brandy, sputtering as it still managed to burn its way down his throat in its watered-down state._

_“Garrus Vakarian.”_

_It was a statement, not a question, and it turned the sputter into a full-blown coughing fit. The newcomer snapped his mandibles tight with disapproval and stepped delicately out of the way of the sudden spray of spittle and almost-brandy._

_“Y-yes?” he choked out, gasping for breath. The newcomer fixed him with a withering stare that matched the harsh white lines of the markings tracing his face. His plates were an unusual reddish brown, his armour laced with red lights glowing eerily in the dim light of the bar. Garrus had the sinking feeling that this was all somehow familiar._

_“Nihlus Kryik. Spectre.”_

_Oh shit._

_This was it. For whatever reason, the Council had caught wind of what had happened at the docks and had decided to get a Spectre to bring him in. Not just any Spectre, but the one he had embarrassed himself in front of when he shouted at his father in a very un-turian like manner over his application to the Spectres._

_He was so screwed. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders._

_“Look, if this is about the docks, there are a few things you should know-”_

_“I’m not here about your little incident at the docks.”_

_His mouth snapped shut in surprise, teeth clacking together as he furrowed his brow. Not about the docks? “Little” incident? He wanted to point out that “little incidents” didn’t result in suspensions, but Nihlus had already taken a deep breath to carry on._

_“You will be accompanying me on a highly classified mission on behalf of C-Sec. Report to dock D24 for a full briefing at 21:00 tomorrow. A full armoury is provided, although you are welcome to bring any personalised weapons or tech.”_

_Garrus stared, slack-jawed, as a watery laugh bubbled its way out with a breathy “ha”. Joining a Spectre on a mission? This was little 10-year-old Garrus’s dream! A chance to finally do some real good, without being blocked by red tape and buried in paperwork at every turn. But as quickly as it appeared, the joy vanished with a pop, and he slumped, deflated against the bar._

_“Sir, I was suspended, for a week. I’m not sure C-Sec wants me representing anything right now.” His eyes flicked downwards and he stared glumly at his empty glass._

_The white markings twisted into a smirk, and Garrus had the feeling that he and Nihlus shared something in common when it came to the matter. “Well, this Spectre says you’re un-suspended. Consider it on hold, for now.”_

_Nihlus turned and began to merge back into the throng of patrons when Garrus caught him quickly by the shoulder. Nihlus’s eyes flashed as he stiffened, only for a second, and the sensible part of Garrus’s over-excited brain noted that it probably was not the best idea to take a Council Spectre by surprise._

_“But why me? No offence, but I am not exactly the embodiment of C-Sec values.” The slightest hint of bitter frustration seeped through his subvocals and dissipated under his breath._

_Nihlus shrugged, and Garrus’s hand fell limply to his side. “I don’t need C-Sec values. I need keen eyes with a brain between them. Your records show you won’t disappoint me with either.”_

_Within the space of a salarian heartbeat Nihlus melted back into the crowd, and Garrus was left staring into empty space, heart racing and mandibles flared in a crooked grin._

The soft buzzing of the small insectoid creature crawling its way over his cowl pulled him out of his reverie, and he grimaced as he swatted it away. 

Despite Nihlus’s insistence on his presence, he had seen absolutely nothing that would warrant a Council Spectre dragging him out into the wilderness of the Terminus Systems.

He chuckled under his breath. Maybe if he had known about the jungle part he wouldn’t have bounced his way onto the Spectre’s ship quite so enthusiastically.

“I’m getting a bit of interference so they can’t be far.” Nihlus rumbled, low and quiet amongst the soft clicking and chattering of the jungle’s inhabitants.

“Should be just up ahead, the perimeter array is just before the edge of that clearing.” The Spectre huffed in a low breath, only the soft glow of his markings betraying his presence in the gloom. 

“Might as well hole up here for a bit, wait for dark,” Garrus whispered, gesturing towards the uneven yet dry patch of land they had been lucky to stumble across.

“Agreed.”

As they hunkered down into the rough underbrush, Garrus couldn’t help but feel his sense of unease grow as the day trickled slowly into dark. Nihlus seemed more on edge than usual, eyes flickering, never stopping, darting from one dark shape to another.

Garrus didn’t believe in the Spirits, not like some of the older Vakarians. But he could have sworn that the jungle itself came alive that night, twisting, bearing down over them, pushing them towards the compound that lay just through the trees.

Whatever lay in that compound, he would be damned if the Spirits didn’t want him to find it.


	2. Old, But New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Nihlus break into the compound, but someone beat them to it.

The compound was tall, dark, and menacing, just the kind of thing you would expect from a fortress, controlled by slavers, hidden in the darkest depths of a hostile jungle planet. The plain grey walls were almost stark against the richness of the surrounding foliage, small slits of windows glinting in the pre-dawn glow.

A slight hum of electricity betrayed the presence of the shield webbing arcing over its borders, tiny sparks igniting at the ragged edges of the hole Nihlus had made for them to slip through undetected. He had nonchalantly mentioned the webbing was set to pump a mere 100,000 volts through whatever unfortunate soul tried to cross it, a grin plastered to his face as he described how it would instantly overload suit shielding and probably ignite whoever was within it.  
Garrus had let out a strangled yelp, taking a few deep breaths to calm his shaking limbs. He muttered curses, mostly the interesting ones he had learned from a drunk asari at the bar, before continuing his climb through the gap.

They crept forward, inch by inch, as they made their way towards the front of the compound, expecting the clang of mercenary armor and heavy boots to greet them at any moment.

Their greeting didn’t come as expected, however.

The sentries were waiting for them, as predicted, as good mercenaries should be. Guns and grenades were grasped in clammy, three-and-five fingered hands, the last vestiges of suit shields flickering weakly. 

They wouldn't be protecting much, unfortunately. Not with the small bullet holes placed very precisely between varying sets of eyes. Nihlus clasped his mandibles tight in a frown, nudging the arm sprawled across the walkway with the muzzle of his gun as he crept his way towards it.

“Clean hits, precise, no time to react before they died,” he muttered under his breath, quickly rising to scan the surroundings with his omni-tool. “They haven’t been dead long, whoever seems to be ahead of us might still be here.”

Garrus knelt beside the body of a batarian sprawled against a doorway, the look of surprise still etched into his features. One hand was clenched tight against his chest, and the gleam of something small and shiny caught his eye. He crinkled his nose in disgust as he carefully pried away the stiff fingers, revealing a small metal rectangle.

“Hey, Nihlus? Come over here, I think I found something.”

He stood just as Nihlus appeared by his side, twitching uneasily as a soft breeze rustled the jungle behind them, causing shadows to jump, and shift. Garrus turned the small device over, marveling at its lightness. 

Its design was unfamiliar, nothing like anything he had seen pass through the weapons department at C-Sec, both legal and illegal. It was tiny, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand, with smooth curved edges thin enough he could easily snap it in two if he accidentally closed his fist. It seemed to be made of some kind of aluminum alloy, surrounding a smooth glass panel, with a single, tiny button almost hidden along the seam between materials. 

“Glass, not holographic? Seems like older tech, but its design looks somehow... newer?” Nihlus mused out loud, mirroring the questions flying through Garrus’s brain. 

“Is it batarian maybe? Some kind of new tech?”

“I doubt it” the Spectre scoffed. “Could be geth, but it doesn’t look like any geth tech I have ever seen”.

Garrus’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “You’ve seen geth? I thought they never left the veil?”

Nihlus twitched his mandibles in a cracked grin. “Let’s just say... I might have visited the Migrant Fleet on the odd occasion over the years. Dropped off a few ‘collectables’ as it were.” 

He chuckled at the slack-jawed amazement plastered across Garrus’s face before turning back towards the batarian crumpled on the floor. His brows furrowed and he let out a disconcerted hum. “Come to think of it… I don’t think I have seen anything like this place.”

That snapped Garrus out it, and it took him a second to process what exactly it was Nihlus had said. 

That's when he really saw it. Under the distinctly batarian additions and tech the slavers had made to the place, there was something unmistakably other. Not quite turian, or asari, or anything that reminded him of any of the council races. It was unique, and it was subtle. It was in the way the compound seemed to demand its place in the jungle, unwilling to yield and surrender its claim. At first glance, it was functional, plain and brutish but soon the elegance of its design began to emerge. Dated, but somehow newer.

Just like the little box tucked away in his pocket.

He looked up to see Nihlus hunched over a tiny control panel that had been hidden on the edge of the doorway. The hallway lights flickered as Nihlus hacked through the door control, panels sliding open with an uneven groan. 

“Alright, Vakarian you take point. Nothing is showing up on my scans yet, but someone was here before us. I wasn’t the first to bully my way through that door today.”

Garrus nodded, silently stepping through the low doorway into the dimly lit hall. It was obviously designed for someone a bit shorter than a turian, they had to duck uncomfortably and his fringe sent the odd spark skittering whenever it had the misfortune to scrape along the ceiling. He almost regretted retracting his helmet, but the inside was cool and refreshing, a paradise compared to the sticky heat of the jungle.

It appeared to be some sort of science outpost, abandoned long before it had been found and stripped bare. More bodies lay buckled against walls and doors, necks at odd angles and limbs askew. Chairs were overturned and equipment scattered from tables, some new, some not so much.

Old, but new.

“Looks like whoever it was is low on ammo, snapped necks instead of bullets. This guy was fried by his own shields” Garrus murmured, cringing at the blackened flesh.

“Hmm,” Nihlus nodded in approval. “Single infiltrator, doesn’t want to be overwhelmed by security. Uses stealth and takes them out one by one. Pretty standard.”

_Professionals then. Just great._ Garrus sighed inwardly as they stepped quickly around the bodies, before continuing their way through the darkened corridors. Bodies became sparser, the time in between each gruesome discovery growing longer. Even the slightest noise began pinging Garrus’s nerves like a live wire, gripping his rifle tighter as his sense of unease grew. 

Nihlus had kept his omnitool out through their entire journey into the compound, its orange glow reflecting eerily off the glazed eyes and the odd blood spatter. His eyes flashed as they jumped from their surroundings to the screen and back again, his incoherent mutterings growing more frequent at each empty room they encountered. Garrus flicked his mandibles in irritation. Clearly, the Specter was expecting something here, yet didn’t feel the need to enlighten him. He could see why his dad disliked the Specters, although disliked was not quite right. 

Garrus jumped when Nihlus barked a loud “Hah!” and the door panel slid open with a soft whoosh.

The stench was the first thing they noticed.

The smell of death and decay hit Garrus’s nose like a battering ram, stomach threatening to empty itself onto his boots. Even Nihlus took a step back as the smell assaulted him like a physical blow.

The room was small, nothing but rough concrete and tiny slits for windows to illuminate the space as they slowly stepped forward, revealing the source of the smell.

Four bodies lay sprawled haphazardly on the floor, limbs askew where they had fallen. Garrus’s keen eye roamed over the krogan closest to the door. He was surprised to see the decay hadn’t fully set in yet, instead the stench rose from the filth and diseased flesh that encrusted him. The plates on his forehead had been chipped away in large chunks, exposing the grey flesh beneath. He was gaunt, the hollows beneath what remained of his eyes sunken and drawn. Garrus definitely regretted retracting the helmet this time.

“So they starved them out, then beat them to death?” He queried, nodding his head towards the other turian hunched over another unmoving form.

“Uncooperative slaves, needed something to take their anger out on? Or something else?”

“I think it might be something else.”

If he hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn’t have noticed the sharp intake of breath and the rumble of satisfaction that just managed to escape the Spectre’s control.

“What do you mean?”

He strode over just as Nihlus rolled the figure onto its back, hitching his breath in a stifled gasp, his disgust at the stench forgotten.

At first glance, it seemed to be asari. It had the same form, long limbs with too many fingers and short stubby toes, and a torso with the same curves and shapes. When he looked closer, he saw that the bright red fluid covering the creature appeared to be its blood, and the skin underneath was a sickly mottled pink. Smooth, not at all like the rougher, scaled blue he expected. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nihlus stand back to observe his inspection of this strange new creature.

The head was rounded, like the asari, but long ragged fibers hung from patches growing around the skull. Two bizarre swirled, conical flaps sat either side, although he suspected a chunk was missing from one, judging by the lopsided appearance and dirt encrusted edges. One eye was missing, and so were a few of the short, blunt teeth.

He sat back with a sigh. As emaciated, bloodied and beaten as it may be, there was no doubt that this was no asari. This was something new, something unknown and exciting.

His heart raced as he leaned forwards to greedily drink in every detail. Excitement and wonder and a touch of sorrow blended into a heady cocktail that left him breathless, fueling that fire, that morbid curiosity. If this were C-Sec, he would have been mired in regulations and paperwork before he could blink. It would be scooped up, taped up, and filed away with a glaring “restricted access only” tag. This was his opportunity. 

A new species. Maybe even the ones responsible for the strange device and the stranger compound.

He didn’t miss the way Nihlus watched him carefully, scanning for the slightest reaction as he spoke. “We need to inform the council. They’ll want to know where the hell the batarians dug them up, seeing as they look pretty close to the asari.”

The Council. Ah. Somehow, he forgot about the Council. He dipped his head sharply in agreement as he jerked upright, followed by a huff of irritation. Nihlus tilted his head quizzically and opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by a soft thud and the muffled clang of metal.

They spun around almost simultaneously, guns at the ready, pointed towards the small, unremarkable door at the other end of the room. Garrus had merely glanced over it before, preoccupied with the state of the rooms other occupants. He chastised himself silently as they quickly stepped around the bodies to flank the door. Number one rule in C-Sec, always be aware of your environment.

Nihlus crouched in front of the panel, fingers flying as he worked quickly to disengage the doors locking mechanism with a muted click. He ducked to the side, crooking his fingers at Garrus in a surprisingly accurate C-Sec hand signal. 

_Spent enough time with C-Sec to learn commands. Noted._ Garrus filed that one away for later. 

Filed it away with everything else for later. A new species. A hidden compound filled with mysterious devices and an unknown infiltrator. It had been a busy day.

He took a deep breath, braced himself, and charged at the door just as Nihlus slammed a fist into the panel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! 
> 
> Sorry this one took longer than I expected, I had a little trouble getting this one out, general bleh and life got in the way. I hope you enjoy it, please feel free to give me some feedback! I am always looking to improve :)  
> Thanks again!!!


	3. Not Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane Shepard struggles for survival and relives her worst nightmare.

The screaming had gone on for hours, maybe even days now. Who knows, time seemed to work differently in this place. Spend enough of it locked in a cell slightly larger than your closet and it all seems to blur together. But still, as disgusting and cramped as it was, its better than the alternative.

Out there, with them.

Shepard blinked slowly, eyes unseeing in the darkness as she brushed the lanky ragged strands from her face with trembling fingers. It had been so long since their last visit, she almost wondered if they had forgotten her. Her stomach twisted in a protest that seemed near-constant these days. Sometimes it seemed like it, others... well. An involuntary flinch caused her broken, battered leg to flare with the pain of memory. She just hoped they didn’t remember her right now.

She shuddered as the hollering of the giant lizard-like alien - Spikes, she had called him in her head - suddenly cracked and fell silent. Another gone in as many days. Frozen in place, all senses buzzing on high alert, she strained trying to make sense of the strange, cloying language filtering through the gap beneath the door. She had tried to piece it together, make some sense of it all. So far, her efforts had been relatively fruitless. It was rough and abrasive to her ears, and her tongue struggled to wrap around the shapes when she had tried to imitate it. Not good enough to communicate, but enough to pick up general intent. Mainly, if it was going to be a good day or a bad one.

The voices seemed to argue for a few minutes, becoming more heated before finally, blessedly, drifting towards the door. She let out an audible sigh and slumped further into the dirty mattress at the soft sigh of the doors behind them. The silence left behind was deafening after the screams, and she took a deep breath, filling her lungs as she had not dared to while they were there. Tears of relief prickled at her eyes, and she wiped them away quickly with the corner of her ragged shirt. Shepard liked Spikes. Something about him reminded her of the grumpy old man that had lived down her street as a child. Sure, he had ignored her every attempt at communication, but he still made sure she got her share of the mystery rations they were fed on occasion. In this place, that was outright affection.

Exhausted, she huddled into the mattress and let her eyelids flutter closed.

_Sirens blared through the streets, and streetlights swung haphazardly as explosions rocked the compound. Jane Shepard scrambled from her bunk, stumbling as she struggled into her boots and pulled her old sweater over her head. Feet thundered their way past the door, one pair stopping to fling it open with a bellow._

_“On your feet, we are under attack!”_  
_“Under attack from who?”_

_He paused, and she could see the fear bubbling just under the surface as he spoke, light from the hallway drawing shadows long across his face._

_“Unidentified assailants. Not… human.”_

_She blinked in confusion, opening her mouth to ask just what he meant by ‘not human’ but he was already gone, and the footsteps had quietened to reveal the shouts and broken screams coming from the prefabs outside. The colony was relatively new, only just having got to its feet after its first year, another to be added to the Alliances long list of successfully colonized worlds. Humanity had been exploring the stars for decades now, ever since the discovery of the relay had propelled them further than they ever could have imagined. But the stars had been empty, void of other intelligent life, only the leftover scraps of whatever great civilization had come before them._

_Until now, apparently._

_Her heart pounded as she hastily made her way through the building towards the armory. She had walked those halls a thousand times over the last year, she could walk them in her sleep if she had to. Now it was like a living nightmare, the air thick with smoke and debris that poured in through gaping wounds in the walls, exposing the twisted metal remains of the skeleton beneath. She rounded the corner to what was supposed to be the armory, and her relief was shattered as she caught a glimpse of limbs tangled beneath a pile of rubble._

_The fear that had kept the adrenaline pumping through her veins threatened to overflow. She paused, taking a deep breath that hissed through her teeth. The warm, familiar hum of the biotic energy sparked through her fingertips as she forced herself to calm._

_No use losing your head now, Shepard. That was only the main armory. Each building has its own, just need to get to one of the others._

_Before she could take a step, a crackle of blue light leaped from behind the remains of a mangled door._

_“Shepard! Oh, thank god.”_

_Shepard huffed a sigh of relief as Kaidan rounded the corner, unclenching her fist from over her non-existent pistol. He looked wild, face streaked with soot and blood, black like tar under the blue glow of his biotics. She felt his eyes heavy upon her as he quickly looked her up and down, assessing her for injury before crushing her into his arms. “We need to go, Jane, we need to get out of here!”_

_She mumbled into his shoulder.“I’ve told you before not to call me that.”_  
_“I'm sorry I just…” He huffed a ragged sigh, breath tickling the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She let her heart take a moment to steel itself with his warmth before stepping back. “Kaidan, what’s going on? Who’s attacking us?”_

_Kaidan took a moment to take in the desolate remains of the armory, one hand raking through his hair while his biotics continued to crackle and spit with agitation._

_“They came out of nowhere,” he groaned, swallowing the words thickly, and she heard them catch within his throat. “We were just starting our patrols when a ship just… appeared over the south gate. Before we knew what was happening, they were on us and… and their firepower…”_

_He began to pace back and forth amongst the tight confines of the rubble, and Jane felt her heart sink with each step._

_“Shepard, their weapons, they’re unbelievable. They took out the entire southern prefab in an instant! We can’t compete with that! We couldn’t -”_

_“- Alenko!” She cut into his downward spiral with a sharp bark. If their guns were useless they still had their biotics, but that is no use if their best one worked himself into a frenzy._

_Her fingers brushed the new N7 pin that clung to her sweater. It was a little ridiculous, but since she had earned it a few weeks ago, she couldn't bear to let it leave her sight. Ash and Kaidan had teased her relentlessly when they gathered at the mess to play poker the night before, but now its cool metal soothed her nerves and cleared her head._

_She had earned this. Time to put it into practice._

_“Right, first things first. WHO was attacking us?”_

_Shepard saw him flinch as the words left her. He shook his head and looked away, a burst of biotics sending sparks from his fingertips. “I don’t know… but they’re not human.” He shuddered, taking a breath before continuing. “Humanoid maybe. But too many eyes.”_

_A shiver crawled its way down her spine as the implications hit her. Part of the colony protection training had involved the concept of a first contact scenario, but as humanity had expanded through the empty stars it had fallen to the wayside until it was reduced to a lecture or two and a chapter of an Alliance textbook. She pushed the thought aside with a grimace. Textbooks were never her thing anyway._

_“Well then. Too many eyes or no, we round up who we can, find ourselves some nice things to shoot with, and find somewhere to hunker down.” She let her face slip into a wry grin and saw Kaidan’s shoulders shrink back a little from their quest to climb up to his ears._

_His face twisted into a grin of its own, and he let out a stifled laugh. “Just like that huh.”_

_“Just like that.”_

_The murmur of voices cut through the cacophony, and she scrambled for his arm, pulling him roughly into an alcove set deep in shadow. They only had to wait a few minutes, hearts pounding in their ears as three figures crept around the corner and picked their way carefully over the debris._

_They were humanoid like Kaidan had said, but… off. Shoulders just a little too broad, just a little too tall. The head was larger, slightly bulbous, with large bony ridges cutting through the face and down the sides of the mouth. Where the nose should be, curved ridges trailed down toward thin-set lips and a large broad chin. A small part of her chuckled at the pointed, elf-like ears, but was quickly stifled by the eyes._

_Too many eyes, deep-set and utterly black, gleaming beadily within their sockets. The first set, large and wide apart, all-seeing amongst the soot and the smoke, while the smaller, shallower pair seated above the first darted from one thing to another, never settling for long._

_Their armor was rough and well used, and their weapons glinted viciously in the light as the one at point stopped to kick at the boots peeking out beneath the rubble. He muttered something to the others in a deep, guttural voice that echoed the crackling laughter in response._

_As they moved towards the alcove, she felt Kaidan tense beside her, and she quickly threw up an arm and a stern look. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled as she drew from the energy that had clouded her fingertips, the amp in the back of her neck growing warm with the effort._

_She motioned to wait for her mark, and as she felt the energy coalesce she leaped from the alcove with a shout, shockwave driving through the intruders._

_Kaidan followed with a roar, his own throw sending the alien at the rear sprawling, landing with a wet thud against the wreckage. The remaining two had been knocked off their feet, and Shepard took advantage of their surprise by yanking the gun from the flailing alien's grip. He shouted, all four eyes focused on her as he scrabbled for purchase, while his remaining companion clambered to his feet_

_It felt almost familiar to her hands, but now was not the time for admiration._

_Shepard leveled her new weapon at the scrambling alien, praying she was at least holding it approximately right, her voice rough and cracking as the thickening smoke scraped the sides of her throat. “Stay right where you are - “_

_The alien froze, his lip crinkled into an undeniable sneer. Huh. It seems waving a gun about and barking orders were pretty universal signals. File that one away for later. She took a second to take note of Kaidan’s position and adjust the weapon humming cheerfully in her arms - shit, it was heavier than she thought - and what did this flashing light mean? Flashing lights usually aren’t good right?_

_CRACK_

_Sparks skittered over the dusty floor, and biotics surrounded the second alien, illuminating him in a soft glow before hurling him across the room to join the first, his scream cut off as abruptly as it started._

_“Kaidan!?” Shepard called, only the slightest waver betraying her fear. She spared a quick glance only to see him doubled over, breathing heavily with an arm wrapped tentatively around his side._

_“I’m fine Shepard,” he gasped between breaths “he shot me, but I’ll live.” He eased himself upright, one hand still clasped at his side, and her brow furrowed as she saw the stain spreading slowly across his stomach. “We just need to get moving.”_

_Shepard nodded in agreement, jerking the muzzle still aimed at the alien watching their exchange, a mix of amusement and disgust splayed across his features. “Get up.”_

_He responded with a grating laugh, followed by a flurry of words no doubt less than pleasant. None the less, he laboriously hauled himself to his feet, sighing as she nudged him forwards through the corridor. Fear flooded through her veins as they crept back through the rubble, lights flickering overhead. First, find a med station. Then deal with the captive._

_The first med station they came across was empty, and Shepard felt a lead weight of worry begin to settle in her gut. The second and third were too, and by this time she could hear Kaidan’s breathing becoming more labored, and the biotic glow of the barrier surrounding them started to waver._

_“It’s ok Kaidan, we’re almost there. We just need to make it across to that next building.” He nodded grimly, and she slowly peeked open the exterior door, determining it was clear before waving them out, giving their captive an extra prod forward for good measure._

_The sizzle of electricity was the only warning before her knees buckled, writhing to the floor as her spine screamed and fire raced along every nerve. She was vaguely aware of Kaidan’s muffled yell, and the thump of his body hitting the dirt, while the hazy form of her attacker leaned over her, needle-sharp teeth bared in a vicious grin. The fire cut out abruptly, her vision spinning as her stomach emptied itself in the dirt._

_Her eyes flicked towards Kaidan, just in time to see a boot deliver itself into his guts, the resulting howl clawing at her senses, wrenching a hoarse scream from her throat._

_Four sets of black eyes upon her, four crooning laughs crawling over her skin like greasy fingers, before the fire licked at her nerves and her mind retreated down, down, into the blackness._

BANG

She jolted upright, scrambling off the side of the cot as her pulse thundered in her ears and veins flooded with adrenaline. How much time had passed? Were they back already? Did they remember her? Come back to tear and prod and laugh at her screams like the others?

Throwing herself to the ground, leg screaming in protest, her fingers clawed at the underneath of the filthy mattress, prying the sharpened steel wire from its hiding place. She ran the edge flat against her palm and sighed. It probably wouldnt do much good, but it would be better than nothing. There was nowhere to take cover, so she settled with sliding between the end of the cot and wall, cool concrete pressing hard against the ridges of her spine while her bad leg twisted awkwardly of her.

And she waited. 

The walls were thick, but Shepard could still make out the odd thump and shout. It sounded like whatever it was, it was making swift work of the occupants, and most importantly, moving away from her tiny darkened prison. A small part of her grinned at the thought of her captors at the other end of the stick for once. The compound had been attacked before, but the aliens - batarians, they called themselves - had run off the intruders with relative ease. At one point, what felt like hours later, she swore she heard a sound from overhead, the almost imperceptible rustle of fabric coming from the small grate in the ceiling. But as soon as it came, it was gone again, and she began to wonder if the weeks of torture and sitting in the dark were driving her mad.

Her legs had long begun to cramp, and she was starting to wonder if she had been left to rot in a closet when she heard an unmistakable “Hah!” and the soft woosh of the doors opening. A wave of fear threatened to rise up again, but she crushed it down, gripping her makeshift weapon tighter as she strained to make out the voices filtering through the doorway. Smooth and flanging, they were decidedly different to the harsh, guttural barks she was used to.

The source of the earlier commotion? A spark of hope dared to flicker in her chest. She swallowed, dry tongue rasping at the roof of her mouth. Gotta find out sooner or later, right?

Quick and careful, she tucked her legs back under herself and tried to stand, gingerly testing her mangled limb. Only to be betrayed as it trembled and collapsed, sending her sprawling, dropping her beloved wire and grabbing the frame of the cot with a loud clang.

She froze as the voices cut off abruptly, stomach dropping into her boots. 

Quick light steps. The soft beeps of the console outside the door, the click of the lock.

She straightened, fist clenched and teeth gritted in a snarl, and braced for what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading everyone! Sorry this one took so long, I promise it is not forgotten! I just needed a bit of a break to focus on life stuff :)
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are loved and appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! This is my first attempt at a longer fanfic, so I apologise if it runs away from me a bit! As always, feedback is wanted and appreciated, so don't be afraid to let me know how I am doing! Just want to improve :)
> 
> I am aiming for fortnightly updates, because I am slow and writing is hard.
> 
> Thank you again :)


End file.
